The Lodge
by CindyChamiAngel
Summary: Dean and Sam find a group of hunters doing the unspeakable. They are selling packaged monster hunts. The boys get caught and find themselves the hunted.


The Lodge

She had an horror of rooms  
she was tired  
you can't hide beat  
When I looked in her eyes they were blue but nobody home

She could've been a killer  
if she didn't walk the way she do,  
and she do  
She opened strange doors  
that we'd never close again

She began to wail jealousies scream  
Waiting at the light know what I mean

Scary monsters, super creeps  
Keep me running, running scared

David Bowie. Scary Monsters and Super creeps.

She ran. She didn't know any more if they were behind her, just that they were somewhere, hunting her. This place smelled of fear and dogs and blood. And people like her.

Had she been raised by her kind, or even knew what she was, she might have had a chance. She might have run on more then instinct, using those abilities her new condition afforded, but as it was, she was a mere infant in the terms of her adopted people.

She could smell them closer now and she ran faster, but exhausting was upon her and she was still a little sick. If only she knew who was chasing her, or why.

She ran into a creek bed. As a child of suburbia and didn't realize a dead end culvert when she saw one. She ran down it, hoping it lead somewhere. Of course it did, the people who dug it intended for it to. She was blind in the darkness to the pit and snare traps on either side of the culvert as she ran down.

The only mercy she had been afforded was that she didn't realize how futile her attempt to escape was – until, of course, it was way too late.

She broke blindly through some undergrowth across the mouth of the creek and was blinded by the spotlights that flicked on, stunning her.

It finally wore her down, the exhaustion, the fear, the sick feeling in her very bones. Something happened.

Her teeth ached. Her fingernails ripped out through the tips of her fingers. A growl came out of her throat.

And then an explosion and a burning of sensation.

And then she died. She was twenty two. Her name was Olivia not that it would ever grace a tombstone. No one would even figure out she was missing. She'd been a werewolf for less then twenty four hours.

"Would you stop?" Dean bellowed. Sammy was making that annoying noise with his teeth, had been for ten minutes. He looked up, clueless.

"What?" Sam responded.

"Just floss already, dude. You know I hate that noise."

"Corn on the cob was your idea." Sam offered. "You know it drives me crazy."

"And you are driving me crazy." Dean offered.

"That isn't really a drive, is it, Dean? More of a walk? A stroll maybe?" Dean could feel the annoyance in Sammy's voice.

"I..." Dean stood and pointed at his brother. He swallowed his rant and took a deep breath. "We need to get out of here. We are both losin' it."

Sam looked at him, annoyed but then sighed and nodded.

"I might have just the thing..." Sam offered and hit a button on his computer.

"A job?" Dean looked hopeful.

"It's pretty thin." Sam offered.

"I don't care if it's the Madonna on a potato chip or Madonna on a potato chip..." Dean said, rose from the bed and moved to the kitchen chair next to his brother. "Though I would have a preference for lingerie Madonna."

"Well, it says here in Petoskey. Michigan people have been reporting strange lights and sound in the woods around the town." Sam said.

"So, what UFOs"" Dean asked sarcastically.

"I said it was thin..."

"No, no .We've dealt with everything else, why the hell not? It will get us out of here."

Sam nodded. "OK, so, Petoskey is what, 8 hours?"

Dean nodded. "Pack up, out front in ten."

There was a large display of tee-shirts with "Don't mess with the Mitten." and a picture of Michigan.

It was cool here and the air was fragrant with pine and balsam. A sign in front of a small shop said "Fresh Pasties and Poutine." "Isn't that gravy fries with cheese?" Dean asked.

"Extra grease, just the way you like them." Sam offered.

Dean ducked in the store and a moment later came out with a paper plate full of the grossest looking mush Sam had ever seen. Dean dragged a fry out of the pool of grease and beef tallow and ate it with great relish. "Oh, Sammy, you don't know what you're missing here."

"Um, Myocardial infarction?"

"The little white nuggets are the cheese."

Sam fought with nausea.

"mm, mm mm. So, where do we start?" Dean said as he chewed.

"The newspaper?"

Dean nodded and ate another fry.

Barry Tallager, Editor in Chief of the Petoskey News came to the submission desk.

"How can I help you boys?" he asked.

"I'm Dean Winchester and this is Sam, my brother. We were passing through and read your article about the weird lights. I figured on a lark, maybe we might see 'em for ourselves?"

The editor smiled. "I know it's a fluff piece, probably swamp gas."

"You have a swamp here?" Sam asked.

"It's an expression. It was seen a few nights ago over by the Lake. By drunk fishermen."

"So, why did you run the story?" Dean asked.

"I wouldn't have, but I was out of the office. My stand in, was having a really slow news day. I mean, other then an occasionally argument over whose kid was safe in Baseball..." The editor figited with his tie.

"I get it." Dean said. "So, where by the lake?"

"Toward the bridge. Over toward Mackinaw. Big section of pine over there. Not on the lake, across the highway."

"Any speculation on what it was?" Sam asked.

"Well, like I said. Swamp gas or drunks. Sorry you wasted your time, boys."

"No problem." He turned to go back to his office.

"So, was it me, or is he the worst liar this side of Cass?" Dean asked.

"I did sense deception. What do you think he's hiding?"

"I don't know, Sammy, it could be anything from a pot field to a UFO. I mean, swamp gas is already on the table."

"Funny. So, what next?"

"You up for some hiking?" Dean asked.

"Always. I love freezing my butt of in the woods looking for things to kill me." Sam smiled.

Barry was on the phone before the boys cleared the door.

"Yeah. It's Barry." pause, "Well, get him on the damned phone, this is urgent!"

He waited. The voice answered.

"You won't guess whose nosing around. No, not the Fed. The Winchesters. No, no they don't have their angel with them. What do you mean "A shame". Are you not listening? This isn't some minor demon or vamp. This is the Winchesters!" He listened for a long minute, sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'll see what I can do. Yes. Fine."

Barry sat behind his desk and rubbed his eyes. After a long moment he stood. "Send my calls to my cell." She told his receptionist and walked out into the bright sunshine."

The boys waited til dark to go on their search.

"So, how do we kill ET?" Dean asked.

"Kill him? I'm going to ask for a ride." Sam smiled. Dean chuckled.

The car moved with a throaty roar and bright lights breaking the blackness before them like an ice cutter in a frozen sea. No one else on the road, they were north of Petoskey and driving along the edge of Lake Michigan, which splashed choppy off to the right somewhere.

Suddenly, the light of the headlamps was broken by a dark figure moving into the road. Dean slammed on the breaks, but not in time, the figure went tumbling over his car and landed hard on the blacktop in the inky darkness. As soon as the car stopped, Dean and Sam jumped out and ran to the figure, now lying prone on the ground.

Dean reached out and lifted the corpse to look at the face of his victim. Instead of rolling lifeless in his arms, it hissed and bared a full set of vampire fangs. The vamp was covered with bruises and cuts that didn't even seem to be healing, it was emaciated and weak. The struggles in his arms were only token.

He looked up a Sam, who seemed as mystified as him. Hit by a car or not, this thing should be trying to take him apart.

"What am I? What did they do to me?" She asked. Yes, it was a girl, maybe boys exchanged glances.

"New turning?" Sam ventured.

"But why the beating?"

Sam flashed his "No idea" face.

"Please, help me. Please don't let them get me." She said and passed out in Dean's arms.

He looked at Sam. He could tell what his brother was thinking. "No. We're going to stake it."

"If she's a new turning, maybe we can save her."

Dean sighed. "I liked it better when we just killed things."

"Yeah, you ever wonder how many of them we might have saved."

"No Sam, I don't. I have to sleep eventually." Sam nodded and lifted the unconscious vampire into his arms. A few moments later they were in the car headed back to their hotel the vamp locked safely in the trunk.

She was laying on the bed, her injuries were much more apparent in the light. A lot of small scratches, like from vines, bruising on the arms and face, like a beating, and shotgun spatter in her back.

"What the?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Some kind of vampire initiation?" Dean offered.

"What like hazing? Phi Kappa Vitae?" Sam said. Dean allowed himself a slight grin.

"Maybe we can wake her?"

Dean stood next to the bed where the vampire lay, panting hard and sweating a little blood. He took out his knife and cut his arm, letting a little blood trickle out. Immediately the vampire sat upright and hissed, reached for him. He darted back and she missed him.

"Hey, calm down." Sam offered.

"Yeah, Sammy, wounded animals respond to logic."

"You have a better idea?" Sam asked. Dean nodded and slapped the girl. She raged for a minute, then calmed. She looked at him like a wounded puppy.

"Please, just kill me, just don't hurt me anymore." She begged through tears. Sam moved over to her.

"Who hurt you?" He asked.

She shook her head. I don't know. I was in Chicago, shopping and the next thing I know..."

An arrow came through the window and pierced her through the heart. She struggled briefly and then died, blood pouring from her mouth.

Dean wheeled, and Sammy slid out his gun. They both hit the ground and went the window. Dean took a metal mirror out of his pocket and held it up to see who was out there.

Three men in hunting gear. One with a bow, one with a shotgun. The third wore a bright orange hunting cap and full fatigues. That one was obviously the leader.

"Come on out and we'll make it quick." The man in fatigues said.

"We don't want any trouble." Dean said, taking out his .45 and slipping off the safety.

"Don't know what the hell you are, but if you're hanging out with a vamp, we assume you're one, too. Come out or we'll burn you out."

"Whoa, we aren't Vampires." Sam called. "I'm coming out."

"Sammy are you nuts?" Dean growled.

"We aren't monsters, Dean. They don't want to hurt us. Cover me, ok?" Sam rose and held his own pistol in his hand, held over his head. He went to the door and slowly opened it. He stepped out, using every muscle in his body to show he wasn't hostile.

"Then what the hell are you?" The man asked.

"We're hunters." Sam said. "I'm Sam Winchester and inside is my brother, Dean." The old man in the fatigues stopped. He thought for a minute then smiled.

"John's boys?" He called. "What the blue hell? Come on out, Dean." He moved toward Sam and when he got to him, took him in a huge bear hug. "Damn, you boys got big."

Dean moved out beside his brother, holstering his pistol. The man also grabbed him in an uncomfortable embrace. Dean submitted, but not graciously.

"You never were a hugger." The old man said. "I'm Ferrell Hart." He offered.

"The Ferrell Hart?" Sam said, a little awed.

"The one and only. Met your daddy when you were just learning to walk. Me and him took out a nasty nest of Vamps. They are always a problem in the higher altitudes. Less sunlight, don't you know."

"We hit that one with our car." Dean offered.

"You're a hunting legend." Sam said. "You're the one who tested the Lore. Tried everything."

"Oh, stop, it wasn't anything. I was killin' 'em anyway." Ferrell said.

"No, it's amazing. This man went out and found every kind of way to kill a monster and then tested it to see if it worked or not. He found several new kinds of ways to kill creatures."

"I'm an old man, now, though. I don't do that anymore. Just training these new hunters." He gestured to the younger men with him.

"Yeah, well, you missed lesson one, don't fire blind into a room with people." Dean said. He glared at the one with the Bow.

"I wasn't blind." The kid returned. "Not only am I marksman with this, but I have a sight that is capable to 1000 yards and has an infrared capacity. I could see your body heat."

"What if one of had moved?" Dean asked.

"Then I'd assume you were protecting the vamp and were a valid target." Dean eyed the boy dangerous.

"Dean, this is Coy. My best hunter." Ferrell offered. "And the other one is Dwayne. My son." Coy was tall and lean, had the look of a bully. His icy blue eyes seemed incapable of not leering. Dwayne was heavier, but no less violent in appearance. Dean disliked them both immediately.

Sam moved to shake there hands as did Dean, though he didn't drop his eyes from Coy.

"I heard a lot about you Winchesters." Coy offered.

"I hope it was all good," Sam offered.

"Not really." Coy replied. He held for a moment and then smiled. "Just kidding."

"Why don't you boys come up to the lodge with us." Ferrell offered. "I remember the life of bad hotels and worse food."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Dean nodded and he and Sam got in the Impala and followed Ferrell back to his house.

"So, that Vamp say anything before she died?" Ferrell asked over a large cuppa joe and the best deer meat Dean had ever eaten. Even Sam took some of the meat.

"She was about to when she got offed." Dean replied, made a point of catching Coy's eye.

"You got a problem with me, Winchester?" Coy asked.

"Depends, you going to go winging any more ballistics over my coconut?" Dean replied.

"Well, that depends on how many more Vamps you decided to cozy up with."

"Cozy up? That was an interrogation!"

"You tuck in all the monsters you interrogate, or just the ones your brother sleeps with..."

Dean stood and so did Coy. Guns flashed. Ferrell stood and stared them both down.

"Not at my table." He cautioned. "Coy. Apologise."

"Me?"

"They are guests I my house and you are out of line. You don't know Sam and I'll not have hateful rumors thrown at the sons of the man who saved my life. Not under my roof."

"Dad saved your life?" Sam asked, hoping to change the subject. There was a moment of uneasy silence and all the men finally sat.

"Yes. All of you were still in diapers." he grinned. "A wraith. Ugly bugger. Had me down, the damned sulfur trap we were trying didn't work. Your dad came up behind it with cold iron. Took the two of us to bring it down."

"Dad never mentioned you." Dean offered, took another bite of deer.

"I imagine not. I had a reputation as a bit of a hot head, not the kind of person you let your kids stay with."

Dean's vision blurred. He looked across the table and saw Sammy wobble.

"What the hell?" Dean bellowed and stood. It took all his will.

"You sure you put enough in there, Dad?" Dwayne was asking.

"Enough to knock out a horse. Still, Winchesters are stubborn. He'll go down."

Blackness cut off the rest of the conversation.

Dean woke tied to a chair. He suddenly realized this was way to familiar a sensation. He could feel Sammy behind him, stirring. He shook off the sludge of the roofie and tried to focus. Across from him sat Ferrell.

"I am going to kick your ass." Dean said. "I knew you were a douche from the word one."

"Now Dean, I just wanted to talk to you two. Civilly. I'm just not sure how you will receive my words. I've had this conversation with several hunters, some take it well, others, well they become a liability. I have faith in you two, though."

"Whatever it is, no thanks." Sam muttered from behind Dean.

"You haven't even heard it. I think you both might like this. It's a financial offer."

"I'm not that kind of boy," Dean spat. "I knew you were a bad touch guy..."

"No, this is business. Monsters. See, I retired from hunting a few years ago. Bum knee. Hell, bum everything."

"Happy for you." Dean said.

"But I couldn't keep my hand out and it occurred to me the biggest problem with hunting was expenses. I came from a well off family, so I didn't have those issues, but others, like your dad... I watched him struggle for so long to raise you boys, keep you in clothes on borrowed credit cards. It was a real shame."

"A shame," Dwayne and Coy intoned.

"So, what, you started a silk road for hunters?"

"Nothing like that, no, a business. A place for them to sell their wares."

"What wares?" Sammy asked.

"Why, monsters, of course. The world is full of big game hunters who are tired of the lion hunts and the elephants and bears. Imagine, to actually get to hunt a Wendigo, or a Werewolf, or a demon..."

"You're selling packaged hunts for monsters… Dean uttered.

"It's a very lucrative business. 10,000 for a Vampire. Over a million for a demon. The hunters sell the occasional monster to me, they get some spending cash and everyone's happy."

"Sounds a lot like playing with your food." Sam said.

"Yeah, I heard that about you, Winchester." Coy retorted.

"Talk to my brother like that one more time and I'll..." Dean said.

"Boys. Please. Let's work together. I know Sammy is a good boy, I'm willing to look aside any transgressions he may or may not have made." Ferrell said "For your father, of course."

"Not interested," Sam said. Ferrell stood and walked to face him.

"Why not?" Ferrell said. "You haven't heard your part."

"Because this makes us just like them. This is… wrong. Kill them, sure, but torture should only be used to get intel."

Dean spoke up. "What's in it for us, and what do you want?"

"You can't be considering this, Dean."

"Sammy, shut up." Sam did as he was told, but clearly was annoyed.

"Well, you can bring me monsters, or you can move up the totem pole a little. I'm always looking for guides, you know, showmen, make it look dangerous."

"You mean it's not?" Sam asked.

"Naw, we drug 'em first. So they don't feel pain."

"OK, I'm going to puke." Sam said.

"Compensation?" Dean asked. "Big numbers." He grinned.

"10 percent of the take, if you come on board as guides. I can sell you two."

"Twenty each and we'll talk about it."

Ferrell was silent for a moment. "Well, well, aren't you a chip off the old block..."

"Are you saying our dad was involved with this?" Sam asked.

"No nothing like that. He was a goody two shoes, like you. But he was the damnedest talker I ever met. Had the gift of gab. Could charm the knickers off a nun. Done, I'll give you two a few minutes to get control of your brother, talk sense to him."

The three thugs left the room.

"You cannot be serious, this is repugnant." Sam said.

"Oh, like we never tortured a demon or a vamp..."

"That was different and you know it, It wasn't for personal gain."

"You telling me there isn't a part of you would relish watching some Monster get ganked by a pediatrician?" Dean said.

"Yeah, I am. When you start to enjoy it, you become a monster. I mean, I don't hate it, Dean, it's what I do, but do I jump up every day hoping to find a monster to kill, no. Do I think about the host, or the person the vampire was before they got bitten? Yes. I do."

Suddenly Dean stopped shifting and his hands came free. He leaped around in front of Sam and pointed to the microphones in he corner of the room.

Sam glanced around for cameras but didn't see any. Dean cut him loose.

"Well, we need to come up with a decision." Sam said, continuing Dean's play.

"Well, I for one am sick of being broke. Come on Sammy."

"I hate this, Dean."

Dean moved over behind the door. He grabbed a heavy piece of wood from the floor.

"Don't we deserve to get paid, Sammy? Look you can go back to school and I'll take the job..."

"But..."

"I'm calling him and we are taking the deal. That's final."

"Fine." Sam said. "Call him in."

"Ferrell!" Dean yelled.

The door opened and Coy moved in first. Dean brought the wood down hard and cold cocked Coy who slumped to the floor. Dwayne entered quickly behind and Dean came up in the back swing and caught him in the mouth and down he went.

Ferrell was smarter. He tossed what looked like a flare. It hissed and smoked and soon the boys were choking and soon blackness encroached again, back into slumber.

Dean tried to cover his ears. He had been listening to Sammy scream for the better part of a half hour. He paced in the small cell and kicked things periodically. The wall, the bars, the dirt on the floor. He had awaken shortly before that. Alone with nothing but his clothing. Even his jewelry was gone.

The cell was bare and there were no windows to be seen anywhere. The air felt subterranean, musty and damp and a little chill.

Sam's screams stopped and so did Dean's heart. He listened, strained to hear his brother's voice. Breathless moments later a bloodied and battered Sam was dragged back to the cage. He was barely conscious. His face was a mess of welts and blood and his arm looked like it might be broken. He didn't even try to walk, his feet drug limply behind him.

A cattle prod was shoved at Dean, he felt the shock and jumped back. The door was opened and Sammy was unceremoniously thrown to the floor by Coy and Dwayne.

"I am going to take my time killing you two.' Dean growled.

"Should have played ball." Coy said. His face was bruised from where he's hit the floor. He shoved the prod in again and touched it to Dean's skin. Dean grunted and used ever ounce of his Winchester stubborn to not scream. Coy laughed and walked away. Dwayne followed, dumbly.

"Sammy, Sam, speak to me." Dean fell to his brother's side and lifted him up.

"Dean, Why are they doing this?"

"I don't know. Maybe softening us up for a hunt. Apparently the world is full of sick bastards."

"I can't feel my hands." Sam said and Dean touched his brother's fingers. He saw electrical burns on Sam's arms."

"Sons of bitches. When I get out of here..."

"I don't get it, Dean, It makes no sense."

"Maybe he just gets off on it."

Across the hall from them, a young girl lay unconscious on the floor. Dean looked over.

"Hey, hey!" He called. She looked up. She was dazed as if high.

Dwayne came back in with a glass of thick, block liquid. He grinned at Dean as he passed. He opened the cage and grabbed her, forced her to drink."

"What is that? Hey, Douchebag. What are you doing to her?"

Dwayne turned with a slow smile. "Blood. Vampire blood."

"What?" Dean watched as the girl writhed and groaned. "You're… you're making vampires?"

"Well, yeah. All the hunters we asked to bring us monsters had about the same reaction as you."

"And what did you do with them?"

"Same thing we're going to do with you." he grinned and left.

"Hey! Asshat! When I get out of here I'm going to cut your heart out!"

Sammy groaned and Dean fell to the dirt floor beside him.. He tried to make him comfortable and pulled him close.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Can I at least get some water for him?" Dean yelled.

Coy cam back in with the prod. He shocked Dean twice, stunning him and cam in, kicked him in the head. Again, they grabbed Sammy and dragged him out of the cell.

"You son of a bitch." Dean tried to crawl after them, but Dwayne kicked him this time. The cell door slammed.

"Round two." Coy grinned. "I'll bring you what's left in a doggie bag."

"You bastard."

"And I'm going to love driving that car." He added. "Too bad you don't have anyone to come and save you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"I hear you're one loyal sumbitch. Truth is, you are only a little valuable, but you got access to something real, valuable."

"Me, what?" Dean asked.

"There are people who would pay a ton of money to hunt and angel..."

"No." Dean said.

"OK Dean, but listen, you got a choice. Sammy or your angel. We both know who you're going to choose. Why not spare your baby brother any more trauma and call the angel."

"You piece of shit." Dean growled.

"Flattery will get you no where." Coy said. Coy shoved Sammy hard on the floor. Sam grunted and wept a little. "You know. I can keep him alive for weeks. About day seven, I stop offering to let him live and tell you I'll let him die quick."

Dean trembled with rage. He felt like his head might explode.

"OK, Fine."

Coy grabbed Sam but his collar and dragged him into the other room. Dean bit his lip.

"No, Please!" Sam implored. There was an electrical buzzing. Dean's imagination ran wild, Sam had broken pretty fast the first time and he was the toughest man Dean knew.

Sam was going to die.

"Cass, if you can hear me," He heard the flutter of wings and felt the angel beside him.

"Dean..."

"Cass, I'm sorry."

At that moment, Sam screamed in earnest.

"What, where is Sam?"

"Next room. Are you trapped, too?"

Cass closed his eyes and… Nothing happened. He frowned and tried again.

Ferrell entered, laughing. Dean turned to him. He had never in his life wanted a person dead. He vowed right there and then that if it took his last breath, this man and all his family would die. Medieval fate's met him in Dean's mind. Dean reveled in the lamentation of his women.

"I knew you'd be good for something, Dean." Ferrell said. "I mean, I'd rather have you on the payroll, but..."

"You lying sack of shit. I promise you, you will suffer."

"Oh, come on. I mean, I got a buyer for you and your brother. Sold you as a pair. Since Sammy is hurt and you're, well, a non performer. Thought it was the least I could do for John, keep you together til the end."

"Don't you say my father's name." Dean growled.

"Oh right, Saint Winchester. I think he suspected how far I'd go. Refused to work with me after the first time. I heard he told the Singer redneck I was dangerous. After a while, I couldn't get people to work with me, because of your father. So, the Winchester buys went on the block and you fetched a healthy price. You two have quite the reputation. Yes, very nice but an angel. Did you know there are people who will sell their very souls to kill an angel? And then there is the parts markets to considered..."

"You can't kill an angel, dipshit." Dean said.

"All the better. Resale value. I can let them think they killed him over and over and over and then just heal him back. I figure after the first few hundred times, he won't even feel it."

"Dean?" Cass asked, calmly. "Is he for real?" Cass looked up and Dean's eyes followed. There was a symbol there Dean didn't recognize, but Cass did. His eyes narrowed. "Where did you get that?"

"What the hell is it?" Dean grunted.

"It's a Solomon's Labyrinth. Lost eons ago."

"So your stuck?"

"No, it's a maze but I can get out."

"How long will that take?" Dean asked.

"About 60 million years."

"OK, so that's off the table. I'm sorry I got you into this, but..." Sammy screamed again in the other room and there was the sound of a saw blade revving to life. "Let him go, you prick."

"Already have done. He's going outside as we speak. So, Dean, if you'll just come with me..."

"No."

"Now, Dean, if you don't get out there on the field, little Sammy won't be any sport at all."

Ferrell held up his cellphone and showed Dean video of Sammy being tossed off a thirty foot balcony at the side of the lodge near the woods. "I can't thank you enough. I knew if I just put on enough pressure, you'd call your angel. And you did Dean. I owe you."

Dean spit in Ferrell's face, but walked passed him, docile as they led him to Sam.

As the door opened, Cass looked for a way out. Above him the maze loomed. To his vision it was a series of loops in burning white light and the sound of infinity. It had been drawn in virgin's blood and he was trapped here.

"Impressive." He said to Ferrell. "Where did you find that?"

"Hunters are collectors. You kill enough of them, enough demons and monsters, you learn some interesting things."

"So, now what?" Cass asked. "I won't be a very interesting hunt. I am immune to pain and injury but any weapon you might have access too. As soon as you remove me, I will teleport and save my friends."

"You insult me." Ferrell cooed. He pulled out a stone yoke carved with incantations and a lock covered in Enochian.

"Solomon's yoke?" Cass said his face became worried.

"Takes away your abilities, your will. Makes you pretty much like one of us." He watched as the angel squirmed. "I see I'm correct about this?"

"Why?" Cass asked.

"You really don't think I'm going to monologue for you, do you, monster?"

"How do you intend to get that on me, then. If you come in here, I will fight you." Cass offered.

Ferrell held up the video feed. Outside, Dean had been led to the same ledge, held at gunpoint. Coy took great delight in throwing him off. Dean landed well and rolled. Sam lay there, unconscious. IN the distance there were the cheers of crowds.

"Your cooperation will earn them a weapon." Ferrell turned to him.

"What weapon?" Cass asked.

"A lead pipe."

"A knife." Cass countered.

"No deal." Ferrell said.

"I can sit here virtually forever."

"But they can't."

"And a lead pipe will be more an anchor then a tool." Cass set his face.

"Fine. Give me your word."

"I give you my word. First the knife."

"Coy, give them a knife." He said into his phone. Coy on the feed touched his ear and listened. Nodded.

"A large, sharp knife." Cass interjected.

"Anything else, silver maybe?" Ferrell said.

"If it will be of assistance."

Ferrell shook his head.

"Coy, give the Winchesters a big, sharp silver knife." Coy eyed him, but turned to be obedient. He took a big Bowie from his belt and threw it down near Dean.

"Dean grabbed the comment and made a remark. He couldn't be heard over the cheering crowd, but Cass knew what he's said.

"Your turn." Ferrell said. He handed Cass the yoke through the bars. Cass obediently put on the collar. Ferrell stepped in and snapped on the lock. Cass sagged under the weight. "Heavy. Castiel?"

Cass glared at him.

"Dean will kill you, you know."

"Dean has, God willin', a half hour to live. If he goes an hour, though, I get paid double." Ferrell and Dwayne laughed.

"Can you stand?" Dean asked his brother.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. But when he tried to stand, his legs buckled under him like he was walking on waterlilies. "Am I standing?" he asked, groggily.

"Yeah, Sam. Don't worry. I'm going to get us out of this. Then I'm going to rescue Cass and..."

"Rescue Cass?" Sam asked.

"Ferrell used us to lure Cass here. He has a client that wants to hunt an angel. I served him up. Both of you up."

"Very Star Wars of him." "

"What?" Dean snapped, distracted.

"You know, torture Han to draw Luke." Sam muttered. He was edging on delusional.

"What does that make me?"

"The wookie." Sam grinned.

"Well, I got us into this, now I got to get us out."

"How were you supposed to know? Dean, let's just get out of here and call the Calvary."

"Who we gonna call, Sam? Freakin' Monster busters?"

"Every hunter in Bobby's roladex."

"And how does that help Cass."

Sam passed out.

"Come on Sam, I need you to stay with me. I need your help to get us out of here." There was no response. Dean panicked and felt for Sam's pulse. It was still there, elevated from the abuse but strong. "Come on, buddy, open your eyes."

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he shook his head. "Sorry. I'm good."

"Yeah, you're tough. OK. They gave us a knife but I think we need to move..."

At the moment a buzzer went off. A PA system blared on with harsh feedback.

"Welcome to the hunt. Hunters to the staging area, the prey will be released in ten minutes. Tonight we have a real treat, Dean and Sam Winchester. It's been a while since we had a hunter's hunt here, so get your bets down."

"OK Sammy, we got to move. Try to be quiet and keep your eyes open."

"I'm fine, let's do it, Dean."

Dean hoisted Sam over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, his brother's feet dragging the brush behind them. " _Leaving a clear trail for any hunter worth his salt_ " Dean's brain told him. He forced his mind to clear and he pushed away all other thoughts.

"Dude, you need to go on a diet." He hissed as he pulled Sam down into a low lying creek. The water was cold and bracing, but he wouldn't go this way, it looked like a trap.

Following the watercourse is the most logical way to get out of a bad situation, but they designers of this death trap would know that. The water was good, though It was refreshing Sam and bringing back some of his consciousness. It would wash away some of their scent, too, he thought as he heard the baying of dogs.

After three of four minutes, Sam could almost stand on his own power. He was limping fiercely, but Dean wouldn't need to carry him as much.

He climbed the other side of the bank and reached back for Sam, noticed a trip wire. He followed it with his eyes and it lead to a spike trap.

"Careful Sammy, Traps."

"Great. I don't like the Lodge at all. I think next year we shouldn't come back." Sam slurred and climbed the hill. "Maybe a spa..."

Dean stopped and cut a springy willow branch. He fashioned in into a brace for Sam's leg and tied it with his shoelaces. A sapling became a walking stick.

"I didn't know you were a boy scout?' Sam laughed.

"Dude, you have a concussion. I need to get you to a hospital. Focus, Sam."

Sam shook his head again. "OK, let's go." A moment later they were on the crest of a hill.

"Take the high ground, dad always used to say." Dean told him. He heard thrashing behind in in the brush. He took out his knife. "Don't move, Sam. Stay quiet." Sam, clearer, more focused, nodded.

Dean slipped into the deepest part of the brush and crouched, waiting.

It was a pair of ignorant hunters outfitted in catalog outerwear and carrying rifles. They reeked of cologne, but these were pay for hunters, not real ones.

Dean was absolutely silent. He heard the beating of his heart. He heard the beating of theirs. That did not make him hesitate.

He Jumped out as soon as they were passed him and hit the first with the butt of the knife as hard as he could. The other turned, but had no reflexes for the game. Dean grabbed his gun and with a hard tug took it from the hunter. He hit the guy hard in the face with the gun and took a second to enjoy how the blood flowed from his nose as he fell.

"Shouldn't you be out with your guests?" Cass asked Ferrell who was sitting across from him, looking at him almost lecherously.

"You're the real show. Tell me, what is heaven like?" He asked.

Cass looked at him blankly. "It's different for everyone. It's the most familiar, happiest place you have ever been." He replied.

"Then why are we so afraid to die?"

"I am sure I wouldn't know. Well, in your case, there is very little hope for heaven..." Cass said, matter of factly.

"Oh, I plan on a deathbed repentance." Ferrell said.

"It doesn't work that way. You have to mean it, have a real conversion, real remorse."

"Damn. Well, plan b. Call the other guy and make a deal."

"I think, knowing him, there won't be a deal. You don't have anything he doesn't already have a claim on. Just tell me why. It's not like I can get away." Cass badgered.

"Why are you curious?" Ferrell asked.

"I find humans fascinating. I am endlessly curious."

"Fine Mr. Spock, you want to know? No great tale, I wasn't betrayed or anything. I was hunting one day and it just occurred to me. Ferrell, you are a son of a bitch. You like hurting shit. I think it was John Winchester who taught me that. He was such a do gooder. Because it's right. Because they killed his dear wife. Me, I just like it. And the money is good."

"In heaven, we muse over people like you. Sociopaths. It makes no sense."

"You know all that stuff about God's infallibility? Well, He failed with me. I'm broken. There is something I don't have an I've always known it. And frankly, I have never missed it."

Ferrell looked back to his phone.

"What happens if they win the gauntlet?" Cass asked.

"You're mistaken, this isn't a competition, it's a turkey shoot. You put the turkeys in the hole and everybody shoots til nothing moves."

"So, what are the betting on?"

"The usual. Which one buys it first Sam is the favorite. Who kills 'em, when, with what."

Cass nodded and went back to searching for imperfections in the bindings.

Sammy was tired. He was pushing like a trooper, but he wasn't going much further without a rest. They both had a gun now and several rounds of ammo, thanks to the idiots who had hunted them.

"Did I hear dogs?" Sam asked.

"I don't think they have released them." Dean offered.

"Well, what's the plan?"

The plan was to get Sammy to safety and then go back, save Cass and smite this place like Sodom. He wasn't going to tell Sam that, though.

"Survive, Get out. Save Cass."

"Simple, I like it."

Dean pulled the knife out of his waistband and cut through some brush. He looked down and saw Chain link.

"Sammy, look."

Sam hobbled over. He looked down. On the other side woods ran for as far as the eye could see, but this seemed a boundary. On the other side from them was a private property marker.

"This seems like a stupid mistake. A trap."

"Yeah, or overconfidence. Ferrell said himself he usually has new vamps or weres he created himself. No challenge."

"So, we dig under? Go back to the car." Dean nodded. "You sit here and dig, as soon as you're through, I'll come back and we can go together."

Sam sighed.

"I get it, I'm injured. Just be honest." Sam said. 

"Sammy, you get to the car and you bring everyone you can here. Government, law, hunters. Angels, demons, vamps. I want this place salted, you hear me."

Sam nodded. "Be careful Dean." Sam reached in his pocket and gave Dean his extra shells.

"You too, Sammy." Dean turned to leave.

"You are the most dangerous game, you know." Dean looked back at him confused. "it's a book, Dean? About a guy who hunts people?"

"Cool, I need to read that when we get out of here." Dean vanished into the woods.

Sam was well concealed. He was fairly safe until the dogs were let go. It took less time then he thought to dig through the soil, which was dark and peaty.

He lay down and started swiping out the dirt with his arm, in about ten minutes he was on the other side. He wished he could find some way to contact Dean but they had no phones. He prayed his brother would be ok, but who would listen with Cass in this crap hole, too.

Leaning heavily on the stick, he began to make his way toward the road. It was slow going, but he could see the stars and figure out which way he was going.

He'd been walking for about ten minutes., the fence was out of sight.

That's when he heard the dogs moving closer.

Dean's brain went into overdrive. He was high on Adrenalin and rage and this was when he was at his most dangerous. This is when his survival skills kicked in. And his abstract thinking skills.

"Come on, Dean, fighting isn't the answer. No one fights their way out of here."

The thought was punctuated by a blood stain on a rock near where he was standing.

He thought back to when he was in sixth grade. He had this teacher, a weird little guy, geeky, but he'd learned a lot from the him. Wondered if maybe the guy was a hunter.

Math wasn't Dean's best subject. Hell school hadn't been Dean's best subject, but this guy got through.

"Math isn't number's Dean, it's logic. It's thinking through problems. I know you are good at that with how often you manage to get out of my class."

Dean had rolled his eyes, but it was the next bit.

"Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forward. That's all algebra is sometimes. Going back to go forward. Like if you're locked in a cell, and there is only one door, what does that mean?"

"You're screwed?" Dean said to the laughter of his classmates.

"No Dean, it means there is only one way out. Even if it doesn't make sense to go that way, that's the way out."

Dean felt sure this was a cage. A cage with one door. What was the one thing no one else before him would have ever done? Go back to the beginning. Go back to the Lodge.

He started back for the place where he had been dropped next to Sammy.

"How long are you going to keep me here?" Cass asked.

"For as much of forever as I can beg, borrow or steal. You got a lot of play in you, boy. The hordes of hell, private collectors. And in the end I mean to strip you down for parts." Suddenly, Ferrell narrowed his eyes.

"It occurs I haven't tested the yoke." Cass looked puzzled, until Ferrell got up and retrieved a cattle prod. "I love electricity. Controllable. A little spark can tickle, a significant amperage will fry a man."

Cass didn't retreat from the tip of the prod. He hadn't ever been shocked before and it didn't register that he might feel pain.

But he did. Considerable. He screamed. "

Sam had hurried his pace as much as he could. He knew he was doing more damage to his leg, but he needed to help Dean and Cass.

The dogs must have hit the fence hard, because Sam could hear them rattle the chain. He hurried again.

They were closing in, his breath came quicker, his chest burned and his brain threatened to fall into a coma, but the Winchester will came forth once again.

Closer and closer. Faster and faster. Suddenly Sam realized he was mostly running and couldn't feel his wounded leg.

"That is bad" he thought to himself.

He could see the dogs now, and decided not to look back anymore.

He was racing with the devil. The moon was full and clear, at least he had that going for him. He had to have a plan. He didn't relish hurting the dogs, it wasn't there fault their owners were douches. But he would fight if he needed to.

Now he could hear them pant as they ran, hear their feet shuffle through the leaves. They were upon him and…

He broke through the trees and brush and was standing on the highway. A car was passing, it slowed and out got two highway patrol officers.

"Oh, thank God. Thank God." Sam said as one of the officers caught him before he fell.

"My brother, He..."

"I know all about Dean." the officer said to a confused Sam.

"I..." The officer took out his cell and pushed a button. "Yes, Mr. Hart. I found him. I'm sending the dogs back. Tell the tally man this one got to the road."

Sam's face fell…

Dean got back to the starting point without being seen. He knew this because over the PA they were talking about the search for him. His plan had worked. No one would be stupid enough to try to get back into jail.

There was a clearing, about thirty feet before the balcony and back into the house. A running jump wouldn't do it, as the balcony was a good 20 feet off the ground.

"Stupid plan two" He uttered and quietly cut another sapling, a long, flexible one. He held it out in front of him and like a pole vaulter ran at the balcony.

Dumb Winchester luck held, he almost made it to the balcony, close enough to hit the side painfully and grab the rail. With a hard flip he was over and safe.

Behind him, on a hill he could now see, hundreds of people sat. A woman noticed him and yelled.

"There, there he is!"

"Where?"

"On the balcony!" A cheer went up.

He heard more hunters coming forward, heard a couple of shots go off but too far away to hope of hitting him.

Coy came out of the house. He raised his hand.

"I claim this one." He said.

"Your really not my type, there, Coy." Dean snarked

"I am going to beat you to death, boy."

"Cos that worked out so well for you last time?" Dean smiled.

Coy swung, fast and blind, hoping for surprise, but you can't surprise a Winchester. They expect you to swing. Dean dodged it easily. He kidney punched Coy. Coy went down on one knee, came back up and tried to mule kick Dean. Dean came back with an elbow to his face.

The more Coy tried to touch Dean the more frustrated he became.

Dean for his part was enjoying himself. He waited for Coy to stand up again.

"I'm serious now, Winchester. I'm going to end you." Coy said, popped his knuckles and his neck.

"So you know. I am not serious at all, I am going to enjoy every minute of kicking your candy ass." He stuck out hard and fast, once, twice, three times in rapid succession and then before Coy's battered brain knew what hit it, Dean uppercut him and went for the haymaker.

Coy went down like a sack of potatoes. There was a moment of silence and then the crowd went wild.

Dean's brain didn't register them. He was lost in fury, in the raw joy of blood and breaking bone. He kept punching the downed Coy, splatters of crimson covering him. Each strike was release. Each crack of knuckle gave him pleasure. Finally, sense returnd to him, the beast in him sated with this man's vital fluid and he dropped him, leaned back and looked at his handy work. Coy was breathing but just barely.

"Kill him. Kill him, Kill him, Kill him." He heard the crowd chant and Dean wanted to. He knew he wasn't going to mostly to spite the sick people in the crowd but really, it was only his will that kept him from it.

He turned to them and flipped them off, then entered the door he had been dragged out of before being thrown off the balcony next to Sam.

Cass lulled in his chair. He had made an important discovery. Electricity sucked. He was tingling all over and numb in places. Then as the feeling came back, he made another one. His strength was coming back. Apparently, the shock was damaging the Yoke.

He needed to get Ferrell to torture him more, but was unsure how. Then he realized he's seen Dean do it a lot.

"Is that the best you got, you sniveling little pig of a man." Cass said. He was pleased with himself. He had even managed to copy Dean's inflection.

More discoveries. As much as his body abhorred the pain he knew was coming, some perverse part of him was actually enjoying taunting this man.

"I can do way better." Ferrell said. Annoyance in his voice. Again he hit Cass with the prod. Cass groaned deeply. When the prod was removed, he took a long moment to catch his breath.

"Amateur. My grandmother has more juice then you."

Ferrell shoved the prod against him and held if for a long time. It took a minute, but Cass did scream again.

Dean heard Cass and bolted into the room on the other side of the balcony. This was a den of some sort, and in the middle of it stood Dwayne.

"Good, saved me from having to look for you." Dean said.

Dwayne shrugged and smiled. He reached over on the table and picked up a Gurka knife. Dean pulled out his Bowie and advanced on the big man.

Dwayne had no patience and swung at Dean too soon. Dean ducked under the knife and body slammed into Dwayne knocking him to the floor. He dropped the Bowie and grabbed Dwyan'es arm, which thrashed wildly with the Gurka.

Dean grabbed Dwayne's write and applied pressure to the fine bones. Dwayne dropped the knife and Dean punched him with every ounce of strength he had.

Dwayne groaned and struggled, But Dean held him pinned. Dwayne got in a lucky shot and hit Dean, but the adrenilne in Dean's body turned the pain to a rush.

Dean began to bludgeon Dwayne's face over and over again. He hit the big man nine, ten times before he stopped and then only because he was out of breath.

He stood and Dwayne didn't move. Dean wiped blood out of his eyes and moved on.

Sam shook his head. It wasn't possible. This was like some psychological horror film and for the first time, ever Sam thought he and Dean and Cass were going to die.

The trooper in front of him closed his phone. He smiled at Sam. A weird tremor crossed his face and a knife erupted in the center of his chest.

Behind him stood the other trooper. He had shanked his partner.

"Aren't you Sam Winchester?" The trooper asked. Sam nodded. "It's me, Danny Ivers. We worked that Skinwalker out in Nevada a year ago."

"Danny? With the strippers?" Sam frowned and Danny laughed. his reconciliation coming back to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Dude, that place is off. Me and a couple of other hunters been watching it for a while. Figured out this Hart guy is doing something really bad. Good intel that they have Vamps and Weres and what all else in there. Some kind of museum or breeding program.

"Dude, you have no idea. Look, call everyone you can. That place is messed up."

Sam collapsed and Danny caught him. "You said it. Pal. Where's your brother?"

Sam turned and looked back at the compound.

"Balls" Danny breathed.

Cass breathed in. "Bite me, asshat." Cass said.

"I'll break you, you know. I've done it before,"

"I'm not your first angel? I'm disappointed." Cass offered in his best Dean sarcasm.

"Yes as a matter of fact you are, but I have vampires, weres, Shifters, Jinn and a few other creatures in the basement."

Cas looked at him. "What?"

"Where do you think I get the blood to turn my prey?"

Behind Ferrell Dean moved with all stealth.

Cass caught Dean's eye. At that moment, Ferrell mentioned his captives. Cass cocked his head to Dean and Dean nodded. He moved down the hallway.

"Do you really think an angel is anything like a vampire? Are you really that abysmally stupid? I have waded through the blood of unborn infants and brought down rains of fire on cities. I have seen the face of God and witnessed the birth of creation. And you, you're nothing. A cosmic afterthought."

Ferrell was so busy pushing the cattle prod into Castiel he didn't even see Dean.

The basement wasn't hard to find. Ferrell for all his bravado was an amateur. He had never before had someone who knew how to play the game. He was too secure.

Dean moved down the stairs, he could smell them, all the blood and death. As he entered the main hall of the dungeon, he heard them rattling around behind the iron doors.

"OK listen up. This is Dean Winchester. Some of you might know me, some of you know my reputation. This is you're lucky day. There are some people I want to kill worse then I want to kill you. So." He looked around and saw an iron key ring on an old oak desk. "One day armistice. You don't kill me, I don't kill you, we get rid of the real monsters who run this joint. Tomorrow everything goes back to normal, I find you killing people, I kill you. We cool?"

There was a murmur of assent and Dean dropped the key into the nearest cell window. The third lock was clicking open when he reached the top of the stairs.

There were already two hunters on the scene from the local area and more talking about joining in the next few minutes.

"Sam, you need to sit," Danny said and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Not while Dean and Cass are in there. We got enough salt and holy water?"

"Jesse is an ex priest, he can bless on site if need be. Dude's got the mojo. Sam, you can barely stand, you got electrical burns and..."

"I'm going in." Sam growled.

"I dig that. So, we go in in five. Sit your ass down til them." Danny said and pushed Sam down. He was a six foot eight Iroquis and the only person Sam had ever met who was bigger then him.

Sam sat. His head spun and he fought for clarity. The sawed off in his hand was a small comfort, but he hoped Dean and Cass were still alive. He had dozed off when Danny shook his aching shoulder.

"Showtime, Kemo." Danny said. Sam nodded at the anxious, crazy grin from the big native. He felt for the first time all day like that might just get through this.

Dean moved up behind Ferrell. He had the gun pointed and was ready to pull the trigger.

Ferrell, at the last minute feinted away, more agile then he seemed he might be. He turned and knocked the gun from Dean's hand.

"I was fighting when you were a gleam in your daddy's eye, boy." he said and came up to face Dean, knife drawn.

"You must be abusing the Centrum Silver, old man."

"Clean living and enough money to buy the best doctors in the world." Ferrell said. "You really think you're changing anything here? You think I'm the only person in the world making money like this?

He took a swipe at Dean who dodged. Dean managed to catch him in the shoulder, but his knife lodged in the bone and he lost it.

""Never trade a Knight for a pawn, boy." Ferrell advanced again. He turned in such a way that Dean and Cass were now before him. The two looked at one another and Cass smiled. Dean understood at once and mirrored the grin. The two then turned their attention to Ferrell.

Cass shook his shoulders and the yoke fell free.

"What?" Ferrell asked.

"Apparently, electricity damages it." Cass offered plainly.

Dean punched the off guard Ferrell as hard as he could. Putting the old man on his rear. He reached down and grabbed the gun off the floor. He pointed it at Ferrell.

"I can make you rich." Ferrell begged. He searched Dean's eyes for some mercy but didn't even find sanity.

"I don't want you money." Dean replied.

"Dean" Cass cautioned. "Sam is coming back, with help. You don't have to kill him."

"If you kill me, you're a murderer." Ferrell said.

"I want to kill you Ferrell. More then anything I have ever wanted. But that would make me something worse then a murderer. That would make me like you. So, I show you mercy." Dean pulled the gun away and looked up.

"I don't think you or your friends will get that kind of deal from them, though."

Ferrell looked up. Gaunt werewolves, Dirty shapeshifters, angry vampires all looked at him, fangs bared.

"We should go." Cass said. Dean fired into the sigil above Cass' head. He broke it just enough. Dean nodded and Cass touched his shoulder. Ferrell's screams followed them out of the house.

It was chaos here, people running in all directions, battles here and there. The dead littered the lawn of the lodge, hunters shot anyone they didn't recognize.

Sam and Danny walked side by side, a sort of blockade rounding up the fleeing guests of the late Mr. Hart. Sam was limping hard and breather harder

At that moment, Dean appeared next to his brother with Cass.

"Sam?" Dean reached for his brother and Sam collapsed into his brothers arms.

"Dean. You ok?"

"I'm great, you look like a garbage can in a school lunch room."

"Thanks. I'm feel about like that, too."

Cass leaned over. "Allow me."

He touched Sam and healed him.

"Nice trick." Danny offered.

"Whose this. You brought the cops?" Dean asked.

"No, Dean, it's me Danny Ivers. We worked..."

"Nevada, I remember, the strippers at the casino." Dean grinned.

Danny grinned and pointed to his nose. "You got it brother."

"You too."

Cass leaned forward. "I suggest we all leave. Any second 50 very hungry monsters will be coming out of the house.."

"Can we burn it, Cass?" Cass looked at Dean and nodded. He cocked his head for a minute and suddenly the house erupted into flames.

"Dude is something else!" Danny said.

"He's not even getting biblical yet." Dean added.

]

The hunters all gathered in a circle several miles from the lodge. They could see the smoke rising in the sky.

"OK, so what now?" Sam asked.

"I'm good with it. I think a good days work" Danny offered. The others all nodded.

"We keep this to ourselves." Dean suggested and again, there was assent.

"Some of us can hang out here and make sure we clean up any monsters who got out of the fire."

"OK, then we're good here." Dean said, finality in his voice.

They all began to disperse.

Sam and Dean stood with Danny.

"Good to work with you again. I'd been undercover in the station for a while, but Hart owned half this county. I'm glad we stopped this."

Dean nodded.

"Were are you off to?" Dean asked.

"You know, the constant search for the perfect pole dancer."

"I heard that. Call me if you find her."

"And you do the same." He walked and took Sam's hand. "See you later, little buddy." He said. He looked at Cass and then on impulse, flashed a peace sign.

"So, Cass, you looked pretty rough in there, I guess that yoke was more powerful then he thought." Dean offered.

"No, I realized the electricity was weakening the yoke, and so I prodded him into electrocuting me." Cass said.

"Well, that's crazy. Who would do that?"

Sam and Cass looked at him in disbelief.

"I can think of one person." Sam said.

"How'd you do that?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I just did what Dean would do." Cass offered.

"Douche." Dean responded as Sam laughed.

"So?" Sam asked.

"Back to the search for the perfect stripper. Cass, you in?"

"Longmont, Colorado." Cass said.

"Beg pardon?" Dean asked.

"The perfect stripper. She is in Longmont, Colorado. Her name is Patrice."

Dean stared at Cass for a long moment. "How do you know that?"

"I'm an angel." Cass responded and vanished.

"SO?" Sam asked.

"Longmont it is, call Danny."

Sam sighed and got into the car. It was going to be a long ride.

The secret side of me  
I never let you see  
I keep it caged  
But I can't control it  
So stay away from me  
The beast is ugly  
I feel the rage  
And I just can't hold it

I feel it deep within,  
It's just beneath the skin  
I must confess that I feel like a monster  
I hate what I've become  
The nightmare's just begun  
I must confess that I feel like a monster  
I, I feel like a monster  
I, I feel like a monster

Monster - Skillet


End file.
